Bloody Fingers, Broken Mind

3 A M

Breathing—I've long realized—is not the same as living.

Laughing, is not the same as being happy.

Smiling, is not the same as contentment.

Kissing, is not the same as loving.

Depression, is not the same as being sad.

Loneliness, is not the same as just being alone.

I inhale oxygen—I breathe.

I get amused—I laugh.

I get happy—I smile.

I love things—I kiss things.

I get sad—but am I depressed?

I get lonely—but I am not alone.

Just like anyone else can feel and do these things, I can too.

But am I like everyone else?

I've been told I'm 'unique'.

I'm 'one of a kind'.

I'm 'original'.

But hasn't everyone heard that?
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Everything I do, someone always finds a way to do better.

Someone is always doing something I can't, someone is always doing better than me.

But that's not surprising, is it?
Everyone has experienced that in life.
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I get scared.
So scared.

I'm scared I try too hard.
I'm scared I don't try enough.
I'm scared they'll hate me.
I'm scared to say how I feel.
I can't say how I feel.

But I can write it.

Is it the same though?
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I've thought about therapy—could it help?
I've thought about medication—does it work?
I've thought about suicide—does it make it better?

But then I realize something.

Although this world is dark, there's always something beautiful in it.
Always some glimmer of light.

Sunrises and sunsets.
Soft rain on a sunny day.
Swaying trees in a gentle wind.
A sleeping, peaceful cat.
Soothing thoughtful showers.
Rarely, but sometimes, people.
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When you're a kid, you want to grow up.

When you've grown up, you want to be a kid again.

Contradictions everywhere.
Double standards daily.

We need rain like we need pain.
We need the rain so our planet won't die.
We need pain so we can understand how to heal.

We need death like we need life.
We need to die to understand why we need to live.

All these opposites and contradictions really come together to bring the same things.

Realizations.
Ideas.
Inspirations.
Feelings.
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Hearts beat, hearts stop.
Dreams rise, dreams get crushed.
Hope sparks, hope dies.
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All of this is could just be 3AM thoughts.

—but it could also be more.

These could be the thoughts of someone who is about to end it all.

—or it could be less.

These could be the thoughts of someone about to fall asleep.
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I'm just a mess.
..but who isn't?
Let's just live and love.
We'll get there someday.
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You know what's funny?
I didn't even write this at 3AM.